


Wrapped up with Care

by TheBraillebarian, ThisisVenereVeritas



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Background Relationships, Chastity Device, Christmas Party, Denial, Drinking, Humiliation, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Mainly Hammertooth, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28209471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBraillebarian/pseuds/TheBraillebarian, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisisVenereVeritas/pseuds/ThisisVenereVeritas
Summary: It's time for Pickles' yearly Christmas party and Dethklok reunion, all current and former band members attending! The right kind of bribery gets Magnus in the door, but can he sustain the onslaught of old acquaintances, new people, and a boyfriend who won't let him catch a break?
Relationships: Charles Foster Offdensen/Pickles the Drummer, Magnus Hammersmith/Toki Wartooth, Nathan Explosion/Abigail Remeltindtdrinc
Kudos: 9





	Wrapped up with Care

**Author's Note:**

> Razz: Massive thanks to ThisisVenereVeritas for not only picking up this abandoned fic idea but turning into something terrible and beautiful. I haven't had this much fun since March! Thank you for letting me throw idea rocks at you the past couple days! :)

The ride to Pickles’ home was mostly uneventful, save for the building anxiety that only doubled by the approaching minute. Even with the comforting smile and suggestive stare from Toki, keeping calm proved itself a challenge Magnus wasn’t entirely sure he could maintain for too long. After a final series of supportive words from Toki, the two exited their rented car, with Toki leading Magnus by the hand.

With it being so late in winter, and the east already possessing crueler winds, it didn’t take long for the evening’s icy breath to seep through their jackets and pants. Magnus felt the encroaching chill begin to break forth and threaten him, lapping over the skeleton of smooth, cool metal that remained hidden, a dirty little secret shared between him and Toki.

“You readies?” Toki said just before letting his hand hover over the doorbell.

Magnus stared up the massive house belonging to Dethklok’s drummer. Despite the harsh, wintry gale, music could be heard through the windows, and when Magnus made a quick glance, he could see the flutter of shadows.

Magnus’ face flushed with pink at the imposing sight. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Detecting the hesitance, Toki dropped his arm to lift Magnus up by the chin. “Don’ts worry,” he said, bringing both gloved hands up to rub Magnus’ rose-tinted face. “You ams going to be fines.”

‘Fine’ was quite the vague descriptor, Magnus privately retorted, but it was hard to argue against Toki. A party that was mostly filled with people who either despised or barely tolerated his presence was hardly the setting that made Magnus feel fine.

Toki stepped up, nuzzling the frosted tip of his nose against Magnus. The wet rub of his nose brought Magnus back to his senses. “We ams going to haves so much funs!” Toki chirped, then pressed his lips against Magnus’. The warm, plump feel of his kiss soothed Magnus just long enough for him to nearly forget where he was, at least until Toki parted and gave way to a more allusive snicker. “And if you ams good, Toki will lets you unwraps a presents nice and earlies, okays?”

Hearing the words, Magnus eyed the small, silver key dangling from Toki’s sweater. “Sure,” he said, feeling the bottom half of his jaw tighten the second Toki parted fully to turn and ring the doorbell.

“Remembers,” Toki said without looking behind. “You gots to be nice, before you cans be naughties.”

Magnus knew. He had helped formulate the rules to better abide by them. If he held his tongue, smiled and waved and disengaged from any aggressive invitations from Nathan, or passive aggressive remarks from Charles, then he’d earn a reward. If he made it through the night in one piece, played along with Toki’s games, then he’d earn a prize. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t already done with Toki before, just now he’d be engaging in a game set in enemy territory.

How delightful.

The door swung open moments later, unleashing a welcoming scent of spices and a heated swirl of energy that brought Magnus to grip himself against the contrasting temperatures.

“Hellos!” Toki greeted, waving a hand at Pickles before pulling the older man into a tight embrace. “Pickle, ams happy to be seeinks you!”

“Yeah, yeah, Merry Chris’mas to ya, too, Toki.” Pickles mildly heaved. The second he was freed from the grasp, Pickles stepped back and noticed the sweaters on Toki and Magnus. His mouth went agape, and when he lifted his eyes to Magnus, narrowed them into fine slits. “Holy crap! Yer both wearin’ ugly sweaters.”

“Yeps!” Toki took Magnus by the side, wrapping an arm around his slender frame and ghosting his fingers over the man’s side. Pickles opened the door more, exposing light on the two and giving away the atrocity Magnus had forced himself to bear the moment he made the deal with Toki.

It was a conglomerate of red, white, yellow and green, with a brown and white splotch that was supposed to represent a cat tangled in colored ribbons and Christmas lights. Magnus had eyed the sweater with contempt, finding its overabundance, the ruffled collar and bottom, the speckled itty-bitty lights that flashed across the center of the sweater, and the feline’s persnickety stare a personal mockery aimed directly at him. It was gaudy, the cat’s eyes were misshaped and crooked, and with one of the lights already on the fritz, the sweater was nothing short of an embarrassment Magnus would never be caught dead wearing, save for the agreement he and Toki had made hours beforehand.

“Whats you thinks?” Toki cheerfully inquired. Like Magnus, Toki sported an equally questionable sweater that consisted of a pair of caged doves perched together, looking rather snug amongst their flat, festive background. Whereas Magnus’ atrocious sweater hosted lights, the entrance to the cage consisted of plastic gold chains that could be opened and closed, and the bottom of the sweater lined with tassels that swayed with Toki’s shaking hips. Finally, there was the key Toki had hastily sewn into the beak of one of the doves.

“I think yer hidin’ some untapped gahd powers, dood.” Pickles took a step to the side, then gestured towards the inside of the house with his thumb. “Not even the devil himself could get Mags to wear that sweater.”

“Nopes, just Toki,” he joked, then snatched up Magnus’ hand and began guiding him up the short flight of stairs, into the decorative and jovial scenery.

“Leave it to ya to get someone like him in the holiday spirit,” Pickles commented, then cracked a cheery grin at Magnus. “Well, get the hell inside before ya freeze yer asses off.” He pointed a finger towards an arch a few feet into the cluttered hallway. “Party’s underway. Nate n’ Abby are here. She won’t drink my punch, ya believe that? Maybe ya can work some of yer magic on her, Toki?”

“Alright! Sure things, Pickle!” Toki said one last time before giving a little tug and pulling Magnus past the barrier, into the household. “Come on, Magnus.”

“Nice sweater, Mags.” Pickles whispered the compliment, under his breath right as Magnus passed the smaller man. Magnus turned to meet it, and he caught the slanted smirk spreading across Pickles’ face. Toki’s fingers tickled and curled into his palm, Magnus felt something hefty and metallic jangle and, for the briefest second, Magnus fretted that Pickles was in on the game.

He didn’t have much opportunity to dwell on the horrific thought for long. Just a second after being pulled inside Toki squealed something loud and excitedly dragged Magnus near the entrance to the living room, stopping short of the archway.

Toki pulled him into an embrace. “Remember the rules.” The words mixed with a gentle, reassuring rub of the arms, and a smile that emitted only the deepest pride for Magnus having made it this far without complaining.

Staring into the living room, Magnus caught a glimpse of a few backsides, recognized Skwisgaar’s, and swallowed thickly. Then Toki’s hand lowered, returning to his backside and giving the area a tender, but testing squeeze.

“Remember the rules,” he repeated once more, expression turning dark long enough for Magnus to remember his place.

“Be nice,” Magnus muttered through a shiver. His eyes turned to see whether Pickles had caught them in the act, but thankfully, the man was nowhere to be seen. “Don’t give up.”

“Or you gets no presents,” Toki finished with a satisfactory grin. “Alrights. Let’s have funs, okays?”

Toki breached the archway, taking Magnus along with him, and the moment Magnus stepped through, was welcomed with a few cheers from familiar (and, frighteningly enough, unacquainted) voices calling their names and congratulating them on their arrival.

“Looks who finally showed ups,” Skwisgaar greeted with a raised cup. Next to him, Abigail turned, eyed the two, and then summoned a small, overly polite smile that immediately struck Magnus’ nerves.

Her head did a bow. “Toki. Magnus.”

In the far corner, entering the living room from another door-less arch, was Charles. He carried a bowl of kettled popcorn and, upon spotting the two entering the scene, gave a stern nod before placing the treats on a nearby table, then returned from whence he came. Moments later, Nathan appeared, and before Magnus could prepare himself for the awkward chat that was to come, Toki pulled him in another direction.

“Hell yeah, Toki and Magnush are here,” Murderface said, pulling away from the table filled with snacks and holiday treats, and the unknown blond he had been chatting with. “Hey buddiesh! C’mon over and drinksh shome punch!”

“Oh, wowee! Let’s get some punch, Magnus.”

With Dethklok covers of holiday songs playing in the background, Abigail’s intrusive stares and the clutter of sounds reverberating and overwhelming his senses, a spiked punch sounded just about right. Knowing Pickles, the juice would be loaded with enough booze to get him through the night, though he doubted Toki would let him have more than a cupful.

“Hey Murderface!” Toki exclaimed over the music, and then waved to the unknown man standing next to him. “Oh, and hellos, Knubblers.”

“Heya, Toki,” the one called Knubbler replied, then narrowed his ocular devices at Magnus, who shirked a few inches away in retaliation. “Who’s your pal?”

“Ams Magnus.” Toki beamed proudly before being reeled back into whatever mess Murderface insisted on involving Toki in, though Magnus was far from concerned. Whatever Murderface had planned, Toki could handle; it was the stranger ogling him with a set of damn lasers on his face that concerned Magnus more.

“Ya alright, babe?” Knubbler asked, “Your cage looks a little rattled.”

Magnus paled. _“What?”_

His eyes darted to Toki, but saw him engaged with Murderface. His heart throbbed an icy prickle as his eyes lowered to the key dangling from the sweater. He doesn’t know, does he? Toki wouldn’t dare share any of this. No way.

“Lemme get you some punch,” Knubbler continued, then reached for the ladle hanging by a massive bowl filled with a bright red liquid and fruit floating at the top. Magnus detected the strong scent of alcohol wafting from it once Knubbler began pouring a cup. “I can tell when a man needs a bit of juice to get his night going.”

He raised the cup to Magnus.

“Oh, right,” Magnus said, releasing a bout of panic through a long exhale. Relieved, he took the cup, and immediately began nursing on the drink. He tasted at least three different kinds of alcohol, and sighed away the remainder of his doubts and worries. “Thank you.”

Knubbler regarded the thanks with a brush of the hand. With a welcoming enough smile, the older gentleman leaned against the table. “So,” he began with a sing-song stretch, “you and Toki look rather chummy tonight. How long you two been datin’ again?”

Of all the conversations to start with, this was arguably the last topic Magnus thought he’d be sharing. But then, this man was a stranger compared to the rest of the party-goers. Magnus counted himself lucky. This was a conversation he could easily navigate through without a worry or care now, and judging by the man’s unassuming demeanor, picked up on his discomfort and was willing to compromise and start with something small. For that, Magnus was grateful.

He lowered his cup, resting it beside him on the table. “Oh, a couple years now,” he answered, and the small smile he had worked to manifest vanished the moment Knubbler’s eyes flashed a bright shade of pink.

“Sweet thing, ain’t he? Real darling.” Knubbler’s replacement eyes flickered, returning to their original green before fixing into a sharp pinpoint that Magnus somehow knew was directed at him. He nervously glanced away, but Knubbler laughed. “Oh, don’t mind the eyes, baby. Or do, I love showing them off!”

“Oh, I didn’t mean–”

“Trust me, _Maggie,_ it’s no biggie.” Knubbler tapped the side of one of the devices. “You wanna know something? These babies can detect heart rate.” Magnus raised a brow. Knubbler went on. “Uh-huh, I knew you were feeling a bit off since they also pick up heat. And let me tell ya, honey, your face is giving off a lot of warmth.”

Magnus rubbed his inflamed cheeks. “That bad, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Knubbler said. “I’m guessing this is your first Dethklok-related holiday party?”

“Something like that.”

“Cause, Maggie, you are on fire right now.” Knubbler’s head sank, casting his stare downwards. “You oughta try and relax, babe. You know, I have some pills that can help with anxiety, though they… don’t…mix with…” His head stopped, ocular devices going from green to red, then to pink, only to have that pink seep over his cheeks as he finally brought a hand to manually fix his eyes back to green.

A horrible realization dawned on Magnus when he saw the man’s robotic eyes fixate on his lower half, bright pinpoints aimed directly at the source. Magnus was warm now, but still detected a cool sensation around him. If what Knubbler said was true, then he was seeing the very distinct shape of a metal frame where it shouldn’t be, surrounding Magnus and in stark contrast with the rest of his body’s natural heat.

His first inclination was to simply turn around, but he knew the action would only serve to prove to Knubbler that what he was staring at was real. Could he possibly pass it off as something else, less suggestive? Magnus struggled for a way out of the dilemma, face burning hot with a frightened untampered passion.

Finally, Knubbler broke contact. “ _Boy_ , that Toki,” he said, cracking into a nervous, humbled grin. “You think you know a guy…”

Mortified, all Magnus could do was grab his drink and down the entire thing in one gulp. Oh, of course the first person he’d chat with had heat-detecting eyeballs!

“Oh, don’t worry, babe, your secret’s safe with me,” Knubbler said, picking up on his discomfort and gave Magnus a friendly nudge with his elbow. “Can’t say I get it, but hey, to each his own. As long as you're happy, right? Or not. Not sure how the kink works, to be honest.” He stirred his drink with a finger. “Well, I think I’ll have myself another hit of something sweet. Feel free to join me and share your–”

“No thanks.”

“S’cool. Cheers, honey.” Knubbler finished the rest of his drink, tossed the empty cup over his holly laden shoulder before making his hasty retreat, passing Magnus and coming to a halt to glimpse and blush at the sight of the key dangling from Toki’s sweater. He raised his head back to Magnus, brought up a supportive thumbs-up, then turned around a corner and left the room.

Magnus faced the table, eyed the punch and debated if he should just get plastered and pray that Toki wouldn’t unleash hell on him later for cheating. He reached for the ladle, ready to smother his shame in that sweet poison Pickles had concocted. Of course, someone would find out right away, Magnus thought as he refilled his cup. And it was just as awful as he thought it would be.

The shame, humiliation…excitement.

Magnus hadn’t prepared for the latter sensation to arise, but it was here, now, bubbling and filling his chest with a depraved high. Magnus covered his face with his cup, nursing the alcoholic drink as he focused on the unusual, but nonetheless satisfying sensation that curled and coiled over his stomach, not quite vanishing with Knubbler’s approval, but stirring inside him and sinking downward, further and further, until Magnus became hopelessly aware of the warm metal looped around his person. Though still shamefaced, Magnus lowered the drink, not eager to be upset over the breached information, but still unwilling to prove to Toki that, perhaps, this was a good idea. As the alcohol began to drown and soothe his nerves, his eyes fell over to Toki who, by now, was having his fill of Murderface’s conversation. With half-lidded eyes, Magnus threw a curious glance Toki’s way, eyes shifting focus between Toki’s disinterest, and the key that dangled so precariously with each subtle movement.

Toki eventually caught wind of it, eyed him back, and winked.

* * *

The idea to wear a chastity cage to the party had been Toki’s suggestion, though the prize offered up was devised by Magnus. The game was simple enough: if Magnus was on his best behavior, Toki would “unwrap him,” and allow Magnus to “wrap him up” in some lace, ribbons, rope, or whatever the man desired; otherwise, if Magnus got into an argument with Nathan or Charles, or succumbed to Toki’s usual teases, he would be forced to wear the cage for the duration of their stay, and until Christmas morning.

“After Toki unwraps everytinks else,” the younger man had added at the tail end, though Magnus was more caught on the fact that, should he fail, he would have to wear the damn thing through airport security.

The sweater was more assurance than anything. Toki just had to fix something up to potentially humiliate or embarrass Magnus, to push him into breaking the rules or seceding. Toki was lucky Magnus enjoyed a challenge, and accepted his god awful sweater, along with the heavy, skeleton cage Toki picked out for their trip to the east.

He mentioned it might be exciting, too, but only now did Manus get a taste of the possibilities behind playing such a dangerous game. There was a unique thrill to be had when engaging with another person, feigning innocence while harboring a nasty secret. Magnus had achieved such conversation before, though never experienced such a high upon being discovered. Humiliation aside, Magnus finally grasped what was at stake, and the insane joy that was part of the challenge of keeping under control, of not getting too excited, and abiding to the restrictions set before him, lest he end up spending the rest of the holidays suffering.

Their shared conversation with Skwisgaar was about as enthralling as Magnus assumed it would be. With back facing the wall, Magnus endured a mixture of Skwisgaar openly discussing his latest ventures with some of the many offspring he was trying to connect with, all while Toki leaned against him, supplying the occasional rub, probing hand casting the gentlest of touches over his rear, inner thigh. Skwisgaar mistook his smiles for actual interest over his cause, and what should have been a short chat extended well into the twenty-minute marker, with Magnus starting to feel a terrible pressure surrounding him as Toki’s hold started to increase in strength and desire. It wasn’t a terrible squeeze, nothing that constricted too much or caused any moderate discomfort, but the longer the conversation drew on, and the more Toki brushed against him, fingers curling into Magnus’ waist, the harder it was to ignore.

Finally, Murderface called Skwisgaar over, and Magnus sighed at the reprieve, breaking from the wall and Toki’s probing hands. The younger man teased a giggle, taking a few steps after Magnus and following him with an overly cheery smile. Even with the stupid sweater on, Magnus couldn’t deny Toki looked handsome right then, and the low ache that echoed before returned with a small ember that left him with hardly any room to think.

“Slow down,” he huffed under a stretched smile.

Toki pulled him close. “No,” he teased.

Uncomfortable as he was, the hug did more to help drain the pressure starting to collect at the base, and calmed Magnus down long enough for him to turn the tables, grab Toki into a playful headlock and rub his knuckles into the younger man’s crown. Toki cried a few pleas, earning the stare of both Abigail and Nathan, though both appeared more amused by the act than anything.

“Magnus, no,” Toki whined through a laugh. “Ams not how this works.”  
“I’m adding a rule,” Magnus retorted, sending another noogie into Toki before finally freeing him from his hold. Magnus stumbled back, and even with the layers provided, felt the bulge of the lock sway over the cage. As Toki recovered, fixed and combed his hair with his hand, Magnus stretched an arm. Relief started to spill out from him, when he turned and saw Knubbler talking with Charles. Magnus halted, watched as the loud-mouth blond from before chatted with Offdensen, and, much to Magnus’ horror, saw the ex-manager’s eyes slowly shift to meet him. Charles said nothing, of course, but the stare remained fixated on him, lids narrowing into thin, judgmental slits that forced another cage around Magnus’ chest.

There was no way that Knubbler guy told Offdensen, right? The question rang in his head, filling Magnus with panic, and when Charles drew a smirk, Magnus broke contact.

He said he would keep it a secret, Magnus thought, but no amount of common sense could shirk the dread that was quickly mounting. His throat tightened, and when Magnus looked up, couldn’t quite make out the decorations that hung on the walls, the shapes of bodies gathering in a corner to take a picture behind the massive green blur that was the Christmas tree. A cold sweat covered his spine as he grabbed Toki’s hand, squeezing it compliantly to send his message to him.

One look was all it took for Toki’s expression to turn, eyes going from wide to half-lidded, smile fading, but keeping firm and situated when faced with Magnus at his worst, which, by the rate of his heart, was less than a minute away. Toki never let it get that far though, and with a tug, led Magnus past the fireplace, the table adorned with treats, and through the archway leading into the kitchen.

Magnus went for the sink. A few splashes of water and Toki rubbing his back was what it took for him to gain some semblance of thought and control. Another splash and tap water stinging his eyes let him know Charles had no idea. Charles knew nothing. He leaned against the counter and took several deep, steadying breaths. Dragging a shaking hand down his face, Magnus chuckled dismally. This was such a terrible idea and he knew he was going to pay the price in more ways than one. A hand caressed his cheek and he jumped only to find Toki standing close, his look one of concern.

“You’s doings okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, sure,” Magnus said with a shaky smile. “Fine.”

Toki reached for some paper towels, and handed a few pieces to him. He waited for Magnus to face him, then smoothed his warm hands down Magnus’ neck, resting them on his shoulders. “You’s beens real good tonight, you know.”

“Have I?”

A tender kiss answered his bleak question and he let himself sink into it, wrapping his arms around broad shoulders to draw Toki closer. The cage squeezed at him but only served as a poignant reminder of everything he had, the one person he could trust, who he could give himself to. Under his fingers, Magnus felt Toki’s pulse beginning to race.

“Oh, hey babes,” a nasally voice said from the door. “Uh, don’t mind me. Just getting some refills for Pickles.”

The fridge door opened and shut with a rattle of bottles and Knubbler darted away with a cheery, encouraging wave.

“Jesus,” Magnus laughed into Toki’s shoulder. “Please tell me he can’t see through walls with those damn eyes.”

Toki looked earnestly thoughtful. “I don’ts know. Coulds ask…”

“Don’t. I don’t want to know.” Magnus stood, staring at the wall, counting the seconds it would take any reasonable man to return to whence he came. Lord, was everyone Toki knew this weird?

A large hand caressed and brought Magnus back to the kitchen. Toki pecked his lower jaw. “You’s think you’s can keeps it up the rest of the nights?” The whisper sent a haunting chill down Magnus’ neck, running down his spine and leaving behind a constricting warmth.

Sensing the discomfort, Magnus snickered at the question. “I thought the point was to keep it down?”

Toki snorted through his nose. “Magnus! You can be really sillies sometimes.”

“I’ve you to blame.” Magnus fixed a few remaining messy strands of hair he had ruined on Toki’s head, smiling at each soft twirl of dark chestnut that snaked over his fingers. “I won’t get weird again.”

“You ams not weird,” Toki hastily retorted with a slight pout. “I means what I said. You’s been very good tonights.” His hands rested on top of Magnus’ hideous sweater as he stared up, eyes alit with something dastardly. “Maybe Toki will needs to buy sometinks to wrap himself up ins?”

“Not before you unlock a little something.”

Toki went on his toes, brushing his lips over Magnus’, tickling his hungry mouth, but never engaging. “I could also makes this harder on you’s.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Toki snickered, spilling warm gingerbread breath over Magnus’ lips. Magnus pressed his lips against a fleeing Toki, earning a testing rub into his inner thighs and filling him with a more prominent ache. Magnus ignored it as best he could, not parting until he was satiated and Toki was sure they would continue this twisted game a bit longer.

They made it as far as the archway before stopping. Toki, bless his soul, was patient, distracting himself with some unopened containers of vodka and pineapple juice, while Magnus took a few deep breaths to mentally prepare himself for the remainder of the party. There was still pictures to take, and some stupid gift thing Pickles had planned for everyone.  
“Oh-ho, what do we have here?”

Speak of the devil himself. Magnus opened his eyes, frowning as Pickles sent him the most disrespectful, shit-eating grin he’d seen the man adorn in quite some time. It was honestly impressive, given he was donning an outfit as equally clownish as the one Magnus was forced to wear.

Magnus sighed. “What do you want, Pickles?”

Pickles waggled his eyebrows and raised his drink, one finger pointing over Magnus’ head. Confusion was immediately replaced with horror as his eyes lit on the hanging mistletoe he’d somehow missed. He tried to run only to feel something snag on his sleeve, had a moment of hope but felt it dashed when he turned to meet Toki’s wickedly smiling eyes.

Magnus grimaced. “Hey, buddy.”

Lips pressed against his to the sound of Nathan and Murderface gagging when they couldn’t turn away fast enough. He was about to fire off a one fingered salute but teeth gently nipping at his lip forced his hand into a tight fist. If he was going to have an audience, he was going to give them a show! Magnus raised one hand to gently cup Toki’s face, the other resting in the small of his back so he could really lean into the kiss. Toki gripped his arm, fingers hungering for contact and burrowing as deep as his sweater would allow. Magnus pressed forward and, despite their combined layers, was sure he felt the outline of the key push against his chest. Toki nipped him again, and a leg brought itself up, coming dangerously close to Magnus’ inner thigh. The pressure was making his vision blur but it was worth it to hear the scattered groans, applause, and single wild cheer from Pickles. Even more when Toki was the one to break the kiss, face flushed.

“Ams pushing you’s luck,” he murmured, out of breath and eyes half-lidded.

“Worth it.” Magnus smiled. “I know you love that Christmas movie shit.”

Toki’s devilish look vanished under a bashful smile.

“Hey, Toki!” a voice called from the crowd.

The blush faded from the younger man’s face, replaced with a bubbliness Magnus associated with Abigail.

“Oh! Abigails!” Toki waved at the woman sitting on one of the couches by the fire. “Sees you later, pal!” he squeezed Magnus’ hip before vanishing into the next room and giving the man enough reprieve to shuffle safely away from the mistletoe.

Magnus watched Toki hurry to meet his friend, undeniably pleased when he saw them reunite after several months apart, and was nothing short of happy when Toki embraced her and pointed a finger in the general direction of the snack and punch bowl.

“S’real cute, hmm?” A rough voice murmured from behind.

Magnus jumped forward. “Nathan?”

Said man hovered over him, carrying a bowl of iced pretzels in one arm. “Hey Magnus,” he greeted, then shoved a few morsels into his mouth. “Checking out Abigail, huh?”

Magnus immediately eased. He pressed a finger into his sockets, more annoyed that Nathan was bringing this up than being jump-scared by him.

“ _And_ Toki,” Magnus replied harshly, but corrected himself the second he saw Nathan’s brow raise up at his dry tone. Remembering his promise to Toki, Magnus sighed out the rest of his frustration, then pointed a finger at the intimate scene taking place. From a short distance, one could see Toki gesturing at the table aligned with food and drinks. “Looks like he’s trying to get her to try some of Pickles’ Christmas Spirit.”

Nathan huffed. “Good luck with that. Couldn’t get her to try any of mine.”

Magnus was ready to let Nathan know Toki had a way of inspiring change, but when he returned to the scene, saw Toki handing her a bottle of water.

“Pickles has a way of ensuring his creations are at least 50% alcohol,” Magnus stated.

“Yeah…” Nathan agreed, though there was something in his voice that suggested a tone of concern. “Hope she’s not sick.”

Nathan played with his bowl of pretzels, jabbing and breaking through the peppermint icing, but never grabbing another mouthful to savor. The silence between the two spread, formed a bubble around them both that magically muted the sounds of glasses clinking, Charles calling for Pickles, and Murderface trying to make some grand speech in the middle of chatter. Nathan stared at Magnus, and Magnus, having nothing better to do, returned the silent glower with one of his own. A feeling in his stomach said to acknowledge the man’s concern for his wife, but instinct told him it was better to change the subject. Abigail was always a sore spot for them, and Magnus had managed this far without pissing anyone else off.

“So…” he picked at the hideous fluffy hem of his sweater. “How’s things?”

“Fine,” Nathan grunted defensively.

“That’s... _good_.” Trying to have a conversation without needling the man was exhausting, antithetical to everything Magnus stood for as a person.

His eyes dropped to the sky-blue sweater adorned with snowflakes and fish bones. “Nice sweater,” Magnus tried to point out, and wiggled a finger at one of the snowflakes near Nathan’s center.

“Thanks, Abigail bought it for me,” Nathan murmured, then turned his head sharply to stare at the woman sitting by herself, nursing her bottled water.

Magnus drew a thin smile. Great.

“Hey, Nathans!” Oh thank god.

Toki appeared on his side, arms wound over his shoulders. Magnus leaned into him on instinct, feeling victorious the second his body made contact. The Norwegian had a habit of coming to his rescue around Nathan, as if showing some form of ownership, like two animals eyeing each other over a piece of meat. Nathan set on Toki, his stare going from serene to sore the moment it caught Toki’s hands curling onto Magnus’ waist, before finally easing back to regular platitude. Just then, the conversation Magnus failed to produce on his own now spilled out of Nathan, with Toki bobbing his head, eating up Nathan’s concern for Abigail’s lack of appetite, unwillingness to wear her sweater or try any of Pickles’ specially made holiday drinks and brownies. He placed his bowl aside and waved his hands about, clamoring to Toki. Relying on Toki. _His_ Toki. Magnus swallowed hard, the easy conversation between the two men near him drowned out by blood roaring in his ears. He could feel a giddy grin trying to spread on his face as the realization of belonging, mind and body, engulfed him. Did Nathan realize he was doing the same, he wondered. It was one thing for Toki to save him, help and keep him guarded from others, another when it was a giant like Nathan. If Magnus wasn’t so distracted by the sinking heat pouring into his cavity, Toki’s grip keeping him in his place, and the worry filling Nathan’s sad little eyes, he might have considered himself jealous that Nathan was stealing so much attention from Toki.

For the first time that night, Magnus allowed himself to stop thinking, and let Toki take the lead and keep him by his side the entire conversation. Each hidden touch increased in vigor and frequency, intensifying and magnifying with each return as fingers prodding his waist, back and legs. Even after Toki had calmed and assured Nathan that Abigail was likely suffering from jetlag, the torment continued, and this time, Magnus did little to fight it. Watching Nathan thank Toki, straight faced, but voice carrying unfamiliar notes of sensitivity, thrilled Magnus to no end. Toki staring at him smiling and producing another subtle wink before asking if there was anything wrong, all while slipping a hand behind him, going under the sweater and shocking Magnus with cooled tips, made Magnus feel all the smaller, tighter, and so constrained that it was starting to hurt.

It was starting to hurt so good.

It hurt more when Pickles announced that the “real food” was ready to eat, and after some chaotic gathering that left Magnus and Toki by the tree, platters of food arrived and were swapped with the appetizers and cookies that lined the long decorative table. The rest of Dethklok gathered around to fill their plates, while Toki noted the size of the tree, and proceeded to feel Magnus up, applying just enough pressure that he could detect the wonderful touch with the portions of his cock that weren’t entirely covered. Through the squeeze, Magnus felt the increase of heat, the wanton need and horrible sensation of blood trying to fill, but failing each time flesh filled and met the metal barrier. Charles calling Toki to get his dinner offered only the smallest release from the suffering. Magnus remained behind the tree for some moments longer, hands covering over his front and wincing at the hot, white tingle that was consuming the head of his neglected dick. Yearning continued onwards, tormenting and grating him as he picked at his potatoes, watching the key from Toki’s sweater sway and remind him how much longer he’d have to wait.

* * *

“I wants to take pictures of you in fronts of the fire,” Toki whispered shortly after they had left a short chat with Murderface and Skwisgaar, from which Magnus was left sore and desperate to return to their hotel.

Since dinner, nearly another hour had passed. Stories were shared, and a group picture was taken. Magnus was invited to be in it this year, and while it was welcoming to be involved, meant another chance for Toki to play with him. Right the camera flashed, Toki groped his rear, squeezing it possessively. Magnus strained to keep a reserved smile he had tried for when standing with the rest. Another opportunity arose once more, right as Toki fed him some pieces of cake. Magnus didn’t mind the snuggle, the way Toki rolled on top of him across the sofa as he whipped a piece of frosting with his finger, offering to Magnus’ parting lips with a teasing wave of his finger. Were it not for Charles intervening, Magnus might have allowed himself to fail.

It was getting rather late, and Magnus, though rushed with adrenaline, was exhausted. His nerves were overwhelmed, sensitive to the point where the heat from the fire was enough to get at him. Still, with Toki’s phone already out, Magnus figured he could entertain one more distraction before asking if they could leave.

Toki had him poised by the corner, standing in front of a line of black and grey stockings with each band member’s name sewn on the front. Magnus wondered who would be so brave to devise such cheesy looking decorations, but pushed it aside and smiled wearily for the camera.

“Ok!” Toki lowered his phone and pointed to the large Christmas tree standing proudly by the window. “Now does the tree!”

Magnus carefully maneuvered around the furniture, careful not to disrupt a sleeping Abigail, before making his way to the tree adorned in colorful lighting and tinsel. With his attention on her, Magnus didn’t see the danger incoming until Pickles tripped into him. The force sent him stumbling, arms wrapping around the nearest thing: Toki’s perfectly toned abs which he could feel even under the plastic and yarn.

“Oh gahd, sahrry Mags,” Pickles leered and patted him on the back. “Didn’t even see ya there.”

Magnus cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling trapped in more ways than one. He was about to draw away when Toki shifted, subtly grinding himself against his boyfriend. His hips shuddered against the friction, and his body broke into a thrilled sweat.

“Hangs on,” Toki sounded perfectly innocent as he fumbled to regain his footing. “Gots to gets my balances back.”

Hands reached back and took a firm grip on both cheeks, pressing Magnus even harder against the harsh, unforgiving metal and shocked nerves. Toki leaned flush against him, writhing and causing Magnus’ hands to slide onto his taut thighs. The older man could feel his face burning with the shame, cock heating up enough to put a lot of pressure on him. Helplessly he gave his hips a small thrust and let his hands wander to the inseam of Toki’s tight jeans. He felt like he was being choked, strangled to death, and only offered the briefest gasp for air with the subtlest of friction, only to be quashed by the unmoving grip of metal.

“You are. The worst,” he hissed in Toki’s ear.

A kiss landed on his lips as the demon in his arms quickly turned around, grinning. “Loves you too.”

“Since ya two are here, maybe ya can help me with the gift exchange?” Pickles said, grinning at the suggestive pose.

“Oh, wowee!” Toki lit up right away at the word, and freed himself from Magnus to learn more. “Gift exchange?”

The words had the opposite effect on Magnus. “Oh, I was hoping we could leave…”

Charles appeared by Pickles’ side. “Right after the exchange,” he said, giving a firm nod to Toki before returning to Magnus. “We’ve big news tonight, and would like everyone to be involved.”

Well, that settled that. Magnus put on the nicest smile he could manage while Charles and Toki called everyone back into the living room. Pickles picked up boxes and oddly shaped presents to Magnus, who’d then hand them to whoever name was written on the tag. Finally, after several people–save for Nathan–had their gifts in hand, Pickles thanked Magnus and told him to go sit alongside Toki.

He took to the couch by the tree, sitting snug by Toki. Across from them, separated by a wide table covered with cups, glasses and half-eaten cupcakes and gingerdead men, was Abigail, now awake and smiling at them. Or just Toki. Magnus knew there was no point in entertaining the idea that she was remotely fine with sharing the same space as him.

He glanced behind him, saw Knubbler standing by the tree, and wondered if it would be better to swap places to create a greater distance between him and the woman.

“And for ya two.” Pickles handed him a large box, big enough to cover all his lap and part of Toki’s with how close they were sitting. Magnus reached to begin unwrapping the thing when their host called out:

“No unwrappin’ until everyone gets their presents!”

“Since when?” Nathan grumbled, arms coming to a cross when he looked around the room and noticed just about everyone had something in their arms or lap.

“Since this year! I’m startin’ a tradition,'' Pickles answered. “Everyone’s gonna unwrap their shit one at a time so we can see what ya got.” A sly grin appeared as he faced Magnus. “An’ cuz Toki and Magnus were last to the party, they gotta go last.”

There was a mumble of assent from the crowd as a hand slid casually over Magnus’ conveniently hidden thigh. He glared at Pickles, desperately wishing he could light the man on fire with his mind. As soon as their eyes met he mouthed “You son of a bitch”.

“That seems fairs,” Toki mused, fingers spidering over Magnus’ fly. Magnus sighed through his nostrils, hiding the torment caused by gentle fingertips tracing across his form. Even with the metal covering, he somehow detected the subtlest change of temperature, pressure and movement.

By the tree Knubbler grinned and gave him a cheery thumbs up.

Pickles handed Charles a small box who, in return, pulled something from his pocket and offered it to Pickles. Pickles tore at his gift while Charles carefully unwrapped his, and Magnus couldn’t pay much more attention to either after that point, because as the green wrapping paper fell off Charles's gift, Toki successfully pulled the zipper down the front of Magnus’ pants. He felt each tooth unclasp, and when he tried to bring a hand down to stop Toki, was met with deviously dark eyes.

Toki rested his face on top of the pointed end of Magnus’ shoulder. “One lasts rounds,” he whispered.

A light eruption of claps filled the room. Magnus darted a glance over to find Pickles and Charles engaged in romantics, and Murderface charging further to remind everyone that it was his turn to open his gift, and as he reached for the ribbon Toki’s hands dipped inwards, breaching past his undergarments and wrapping around the chastity cage now tightly filled with Magnus’ aching cock. The parts of the cage that wasn’t obscured with metal swelled under Touch grip, fingers searching and prodding the few exposed portions to draw Magnus closer to the edge. Magnus blinked repeatedly, fighting through the tightening coil, the blood and heat filling his lower abdomen, swirling and increasing in tremor, but going absolutely nowhere.

Concentrate. Magnus watched Murderface hold in a grin as he raised his unwrapped gift up for all to see.

“…itsch thisch the gay Lincoln cut they loscsht in the warehouse fire?” Murderface asked with wonder filled eyes.

“Sure is, dood.”

Magnus couldn’t focus through the increasing pain. He couldn’t think past the feathery touches of fingers rubbing his ailing cock, teasing and taunting the head out from the foreskin and into the restricted cage.

“Alright, Skwis, yer turn!”

Magnus’s stare dropped to Toki. The man watched with a dazed, almost bored expression as Skwisgaar began undoing the ribbon. Magnus chewed his inner lip. How in the hell did he manage? How could he keep so calm while Magnus suffered, legs straining not to spread from the collecting heat, hips fighting not to jerk forward in search for more friction. Again, control. Control, and Toki had it all. Toki didn’t so much as blink as his fingers fought and wriggled against the tight impasse of metal and muted arousal, rolling fingers over the shaft and massaging rough circles that kept Magnus alert, pushed him nearer the edge. And then, without warning, his hand vanished, leaving only an echo of the pleasure that tormented Magnus moments before. He sighed right as Skwisgaar gave his massive dragon plush a squeeze, only then to feel Toki’s hand return, right on top of the cage, where the lock was. Magnus froze, pupils shrinking as fingers wrapped around the heavy lock and gave it a playful tug.

There came an uncontrolled jerk of the hips, Magnus desperately reaching for the large box that covered his lap and shame, followed by a relieving tremble, the aftermath of some pressure finally escaping his tormented soul. His eyes drew to Toki. The man had the same expression as he did. Pain still surrounded Magnus, but now had dulled, smothered by the want of release. Toki’s fingers curled over the cage, and Magnus felt some of his precum slide over the exposed parts of his dick.

“And finally, Nate’n!”

“This is for you, Nathan,” Charles said, pulling a small envelope from his jacket, and handing it to the man.

Magnus hardly registered the conversation after that. His eyes dropped to the box hiding his trembling legs, Toki’s hands rubbing the dripping tip of his cock, and knew there was no way he was going to get through the night. It was impossible. He could feel it happening. It was too much. He needed out, now. He wanted out. He wanted to cum.

“The heck kind of gift is this?” Nathan asked, face pressed against the single photo that was tucked inside of the envelope. “It’s just a blob?”

Charles shut his eyes and slowly shook his head. “Why don’t you, ah, ask Abigail? I’m sure she can explain it better to you than anyone else.”

Annoyed, Nathan handed the crumpling sheet to Abigail. “Abigail, can you believe this? Charles and Pickles got everyone a nice gift, but all I got is this blob.”

“Nathan, look at what the top of the picture says…”

Had to cum. Needed to cum. Say the word.

Magnus furrowed his brows, mouth turning into a small, tight “o” as he let out a stuttered sigh.

“Toki, I–” He jolted at the feel of Toki’s middle finger vanishing, riding up the cage’s metallic spine and stopping once it met contact with the lock. Magnus becoming painfully aware of the metal’s weight, the jangle of the lock as Toki continued to play with it, and the impact it left as Magnus endured each vibration bouncing down the device.

“Wants to stops playinks?”

Say the word. Give up. Gotta cum. Need to cum. _Please._

If he said the word now, then he got nothing. No Toki bound in soft, silken lace, or blindfolded and open-mouthed, waiting and anticipating his Christmas eve treat. If he finished now though, then he’d have to wear the damn cage until Christmas. Five whole days. But he had to cum. He had to cum so bad. But five days. Just say the word. The key is right there. Had to cum. But Toki in lace. Toki being the one to beg! To plead! To have him–

“Oh my god.” Nathan combed though some of Abigail’s hair, expression turning, overflowing with emotion.

Too much. Too much, and Toki wouldn’t stop, turn away, or give in unless Magnus said the word.

Say it. Just say it and lose.

Please.

“ _Please_ ,” Magnus mouthed, head sinking and arms anchored to the box. His hips gave another jerk, filling Toki’s hand. Magnus barely felt any of it, and whined into his closed mouth, eyes shutting and body quivering under the touch, shivering, shaking uncontrollably despite the warmth of the nearby fire.

Toki stared back, cold and unmoving, and completely in control of a game rigged against Magnus the entire time. He couldn’t prove it, but the second Magnus fell victim to those sky-blue eyes, felt his body quake under a greater power than his own. Toki won, was going to win all along, and when the thought finally sank in, so did that intense white wave that shuddered across his form, blanketing Magnus in a terrible combination of billowing pleasure and constricting pain that left him numb.

Magnus stifled a low moan, covering his mouth right as several party goers broke into a cheer, congratulating Abigail and Nathan on a job well done. He coughed out the rest right as Charles drew near, shook Nathan’s hand while Pickles pulled out a phone to snap a photo. Skwisgaar hugged Abigail, and Toki carefully retracted his hand hiding it behind himself as Magnus quickly fixed his pants. Taking advantage of the good cheer, they slinked away, back into the hallway and to the nearest restroom to hurry and clean themselves up. Toki said nothing as he helped Magnus, whistling a happy little tune, but never once reaching for the key that hung from his sweater. Magnus tried to not be hurt by the failure, especially not when his mind still floated in a lovely haze. He tried to let that be the focus, and not the fact that Toki shook his head, tsked him once they were done before taking his hand and telling him “Better lucks next time.”

Charles was waiting for them when they returned into the living room.

“Is something the matter?” he inquired starkly, his tempered stare turning sharp and centered on Magnus’s flushed cheeks.

“Just a tummy aches,” Toki replied for Magnus.

“Well, Magnus.” Charles pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “You should be careful with your sugar and alcoholic intake. You guys were, ahh, gone for a while. Murderface went and tore your gift open while you were away.”

Both glanced behind Charles to see Murderface surrounded by boxes. Next to him, Pickles rolled his eyes, annoyed that Murderface had ruined his classic “box inside of box” gag.

“Hey, Toki,” Nathan called out. The man stood, brimming with delight and with Abigail closely tucked under his arm. “Guess what? You and Magnus got a Switch!”

“Sh’real cuck conshole if you ashk me,” Murderface grumbled, lifting one of the two consoles up to better examine it. “Don’t’ shee why you need two anywaysh…not like Magnush will ever play.”

Upon hearing the word, Knubbler broke into a giggle, and waved a disapproving finger at Magnus.

With nothing left to lose, Magnus openly flipped him off.

The party seemed to wind down from there. After rounds of congratulations from everyone, Abigail and Nathan were the first to leave, the big man’s face beaming. Despite no longer having any incentive to do so, Magnus congratulated the man at the door with a firm handshake and something like a smile, insisting to himself it was just because he was no longer under so much strain. Abigail accepted Toki’s warm, careful embrace and gave Magnus a genuine, albeit tired, smile when he waved shyly at her.

Ambling back through the cozy party atmosphere, Magnus caught sight of Murderface and Knubbler chatting in a corner. The former bassist had a hopeful look about him as he held up his gift. A DVD of some kind? Knubbler nodded enthusiastically, inciting one of Murderface’s rare earnest smiles. Still feeling out of sorts, Magnus didn’t notice the blond raise a finger to pause his conversation before hurrying to Toki’s side.

“Babe!” Somehow, he managed to leer at Magnus with his uncanny eyes. “That was some show. You don’t happen to know where a guy could learn more, do you? Maybe introduce me to some of your friends…”

Magnus’ eye twitched and Toki put up a hand to block whatever move he was about to make.

“Yous should asks Pickle,” he said brightly, pointing vaguely toward the depths of the house and grabbing Magnus by the arm. “Ams thinking it ams time to goes now.”

“I’d like that,” Magnus said, shoulders sagging. The tension from so many hours winding him up and the ultimate disappointment after being so close was taking its toll. He didn’t know how much more he could stand.

As they gathered their things by the door, Pickles sauntered up. “Hey, thanks for comin’ doods. It was good to see ya, Mags. Glad ya made him come, Toki.”

Completely straight faced, Toki hugged the shorter man as Magnus choked on nothing. “You always throws the best parties, Pickle. Thanks you’s for invitinks us.”

“We still on fer lookin’ at the lights?”

A sweet, wistful look crossed Toki’s face. “Oh yeah. You bets!”

“Cool.” Pickles held the door for them, raising a hand in farewell as Magnus passed only to bring it down hard on the man’s ass. “Don’t be a stranger, Mags!”

Before Magnus could retort, Toki snagged the collar of his god-awful sweater to tug him away from the closing door. He hissed through his teeth, breath pluming into the velvet heavy sky as he followed Toki to their waiting car. A few snowflakes began to fall.

“That’s was pretty funs,” Toki chirped as he shut the trunk on their gifts. “Dids you have fun, Magnus?”

“Are you shitting me?” he glowered.

Toki pulled him into a tender kiss. "You's dids good." Magnus opened his mouth hopefully only to be silenced by a finger. "Nots that good. But ams goings to makes sure you has a very merry Christmas. Sos?" His blue eyes sparkled and Magnus gave in with a heavy sigh and a little smile of his own.

“Yeah. I had fun. It was...kind of nice to see those jackoffs again. And, uh…” he cleared his throat. “Maybe five days won’t be so bad.”

Toki’s eyes glowed in the dark. “ _Oh?_ You thinks so? Ams that a challenge?”

He raised his hands in surrender, supplication, a silent plea for mercy that he knew would go unheeded. Toki stepped into Magnus’ personal space, the chains on his sweater clacking against the lights, and tucked warm hands into Magnus' back pockets. He drew out the kiss until they were both shivering in the cold.

“Ams going to have lots of funs with yous,” Toki grinned, taking Magnus’ hand in his own and, with a confidence that left Magnus weak in the legs, drew his palm to rest on top of his chest, centered over the cold metal of the swaying key.

Magnus whimpered through his own smile. It was going to be a long week if tonight had been any indication. At least he had something to look forward to on Christmas day.

“This better be worth it,” he said as he got into the car, giving a single shudder at the icy cold that surrounded his lower half.

“Shoulds be. If you cans behave.”


End file.
